


March Twigs

by versaphile



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Episode: s01e13 End of Days, Episode: s03e13 Last of the Time Lords, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-22
Updated: 2007-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-25 10:54:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/versaphile/pseuds/versaphile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack has a piece of TARDIS coral on his desk. The Doctor wants to know where it came from.</p>
            </blockquote>





	March Twigs

It probably should have surprised Jack to find the Doctor huddled over his desk in his office, communing with a chunk of coral, but it really didn't. He felt a twinge of jealousy as the Doctor stared intently at it, stroked it lovingly. Jack cleared his throat, and the Doctor looked up.

"Oh. Hello," the Doctor said, distractedly. He adjusted his glasses, looked back down at the coral, swallowed, looked back up again, then looked back down again.

"What do I owe the pleasure?" Jack asked, sliding into his chair and leaning back. 

The Doctor made an entirely uncommunicative noise. Then, as if sensing he ought to be contributing something more substantial to the conversation, especially after showing up unannounced and bypassing all of the impressive Hub security without so much as a pizza box, he said, "Just thought I'd pop by. That's what old friends do, pop by, thought I'd give it a try. Hm, that rhymes." He smiled at that, amused with himself.

Jack looked to the ceiling, then shook his head, bemused. 

"You're growing a TARDIS," the Doctor said, looking up with suddenly intense eyes. Jack was so caught in the unexpected gaze that he forgot to breathe for a long moment--not that breathing was really something he had to worry about anymore.

"Uh, yeah," Jack said, not sure what kind of reaction to expect. The Doctor hadn't even been happy with him having a Vortex manipulator, hadn't been thrilled with him having a Torchwood for that matter. Though since the Hub hadn't yet been blown up, it was safe to assume that Jack would be allowed to keep his Torchwood in one piece. Probably. "Had it, oh, thirty years now. It fell out of the rift."

"Did it?" the Doctor said, somehow making it not actually a question. "Did it now. Hmm." His attention fully fixed on the coral again, he stroked his fingers gently along its side. 

"Jack, there's something you should-- Oh." Ianto stopped short, staring at Jack's unexpected guest. He looked over his shoulder as if wondering if he should call the others. 

"It's all right," Jack assured him. "He's a friend."

"A friend," Ianto echoed, faintly disbelieving. That stung, but Jack supposed it was only fair. It wasn't like his team knew him to have anything of a social life.

"Yes, hello," And then the Doctor was up and giving a little wave, and don't think Jack hadn't noticed that his TARDIS coral had disappeared from his desk. Typical. "You must be... Ianto, is it? Yes, you look like a Ianto. Jack's told me all about you. Well, not everything. I don't know quite a lot of things. But you never really know someone, do you? It's good, that, keeps you on your toes. Keeps things interesting."

"Um," Ianto managed.

"Don't confuse my team," Jack said, warningly. The Doctor could have his warnings about flirting and guns, and Jack could have his own.

"Like I would do that," the Doctor said, with mock disbelief, and then strolled right past Ianto and out onto the walkway. "Torchwood Three," he said, giving the whole hub a once-over. He breathed in through his teeth and hummed. 

"Doctor," Jack said, warning again as he followed after. 

"I'm not going to break it," the Doctor said.

Jack had his doubts about that. 

"Jack?" Toshiko turned away from her console and looked warily at their visitor. "What's going on?"

"Surprise visit," the Doctor said, cheerfully. "Oh, hello! We've met before."

Toshiko blinked, then looked to Jack. 'Retcon?" she mouthed, alarmed.

Jack shook his head, but before he could explain the Doctor had wandered on, examining various pieces of alien technology. 

"You do have all sorts of goodies," the Doctor said. "'If it's alien, it's ours.' I see that hasn't changed from good ol' Yvonne's time. You really shouldn't have these." Jack expected more items to go missing into the Doctor's voluminous pockets, but they were left as they were. Jack had already locked away the really dangerous items, anyway. 

It wasn't until the Doctor stilled that Jack started to worry. "Oh, no. No no no," the Doctor said, with deceptive softness. He ran his hand down the rift manipulator, then stared at Jack with something like betrayal. " _No,_ " he said, sharp and loud. Both Toshiko and Ianto started.

"You used it," the Doctor continued, quiet again but no less intense. "Recently. Is that why the rift was active? You opened it."

"We were tricked," Ianto said, ashamed.

"I took care of it," Jack said.

"I'm taking this with me," the Doctor said, brooking no argument. "Either that, or it's destroyed. Your choice."

"You can't," Toshiko protested. She never took well to having her gadgets threatened. "It's ours. Who are you?"

"Someone who's telling you that opening rifts is a very, very bad idea," the Doctor said, eyes dark and wide. "Torchwood and rifts are a very, very bad combination. This isn't some toy, some stupid gun, this is incredibly dangerous and you are _not_ keeping it."

"Okay," Jack said. "We're not keeping it."

"Jack!" Toshiko protested, but he silenced her with a glare.

The Doctor was moving around the manipulator, running his hands through his already wild hair. He was muttering under his breath, touching the device here and there, and generally looking like a madman. Nothing new there. Jack left him to it, and gestured for Toshiko and Ianto to follow him. 

"I know this is strange, but the best thing is to just do what he says," Jack said. Toshiko wasn't happy; the manipulator was her baby more than anyone's. Ianto, on the other hand, kept looking at the Doctor as if he was familiar.

"Is he... from Torchwood?" Ianto asked, frowning. "I think... I think I've seen him somewhere."

"He was at Canary Wharf," Jack said, not entirely sure he should say more. Sometimes the Doctor tossed his name around freely, and sometimes not.

Ianto paled. "No, he... but..." Recognition dawned. " _Him._ Oh my god."

"Him who?" Toshiko asked, not liking being the last to know.

"The Doctor," Ianto breathed. He stumbled over to a chair and sat down heavily. "I saw him. Yvonne Hartman put him up on screen. And then everything went mad. Lisa--" He choked off, unable to continue. Jack rested a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"The Doctor?" Toshiko echoed. " _The_ Doctor? But..."

Before she could say more, the Doctor was right there. "Did you find it or build it?"

"Built it," Jack answered. 

"Based on?" the Doctor prompted, eyebrows raised.

"I don't know. I wasn't involved with that project."

The Doctor peered at Jack. "How long have you been working for Torchwood?"

Before Jack could reply, Toshiko interrupted. "1913. They started building it in 1913."

"That's impossible," the Doctor said. "No way you had the technology. Not that far back. Unless..." He pulled at his hair until it stood straight up like porcupine quills. Jack restrained the urge to smooth it down. Now was not the time. "Torchwood One, when was that built?"

"London branch was active since the 1930s," Ianto said. "The Tower was built in 1989."

"And before that?" the Doctor pressed.

"The Estate, in Scotland."

"Then that's where we're going." The Doctor paused. "It is still there?"

"Sure," Jack said. "They closed it up a couple decades ago, but it's intact. Storage."

"Come on," the Doctor said, heading towards the basement. Jack followed him, bemused, and his team followed after him. 

"There's no exit down here," Toshiko said, then stopped short as they reached a large blue police box that hadn't been there earlier. She gaped. Ianto's mouth was set in a grim line.

The Doctor went inside and left the door open. "Jack," he called, and Jack could already hear him messing with the console controls. Old memories flooded back, but this wasn't the time to reminisce.

"The plans in your office," Ianto said, quietly. 

"Leave them," Jack said. "In fact, stay here. I won't be long."

"That manipulator's mine," Toshiko said, and walked straight into the TARDIS. 

"I'm not staying behind," Ianto said, firmly. He stared at Jack, determined, and as possessive of Jack as Toshiko was of the manipulator. Possibly more. Jack wondered just when that had happened, and felt suddenly ashamed. He had a bad habit of underestimating Ianto, even as the man proved himself time and time again. He cared for Ianto, but never let him close, never let it be more than physical between them. But until recently, Jack had been waiting for someone else.

He wasn't waiting anymore.

"Let's go," Jack said, and they went to join the Doctor.

* * *

"Isn't that...?" Ianto asked, staring at the hand in the bubbling jar.

"Mine, yes," the Doctor said. "Jack was holding onto it for me, weren't you Jack?" He released the handbrake. "Hold on, here we go." 

It was a short trip, and thankfully not too bumpy. Toshiko was staring at the time rotor, utterly fascinated. Ianto seemed more interested in the Doctor and Jack, but he always was more of a people person.

"Torchwood Estate, Scotland." The Doctor strode over to the doors and walked out. "Huh. Changed less than I thought."

They followed him. They'd landed, conveniently, in what used to be a meeting room, and before that a dining room. Everything was covered in sheets, and it looked like no one had been there since Torchwood moved out.

"Basement?" Jack asked, already knowing the answer.

Ianto led the way, even though they'd closed the place down long before he'd joined up. He was always full of surprises. They took the stairs, and the sonic screwdriver made short work of the maximum security doors.

"I remember when this was all werewolves," the Doctor muttered under his breath. 

"What are we looking for?" Ianto asked, at last, as they looked around the facility. The sub-basement was one massive storage area, filled with boxes both wooden and metal. Everything was labelled with control numbers, at least. 

"I'm not sure," the Doctor said, peering at the dusty boxes. "Something old, but it might not look old. It might look very, very not old."

Ianto rolled his eyes. "Anything more specific?" he asked, tartly.

The Doctor rounded on him, looking at him directly for the first time. "Something that came through the rift in or before 1913. Something that's been taken apart and examined to make your rift manipulator."

Ianto swallowed, then gave an apologetic nod. "There must be an index somewhere."

"Good," the Doctor said. "Find it."

Jack had a lurking suspicion, but nothing he was ready to voice. "We'll find it," he said, needing to assure the Doctor of that, though he wasn't sure why. There was an edge of desperation that Jack hadn't seen since the Valiant, and it worried him.

He couldn't have stayed with the Doctor after the Valiant. He had to take care of his team. But that didn't stop him from worrying. When he saw Martha, they worried together. Watching the Doctor scan the stacks with his screwdriver, strangely anxious over some piece of tech that had sat inert for decades, he knew they were right to be concerned. 

It seemed like forever until Toshiko found a likely suspect. "I think this is it," she said, pointing to an entry in the yellowed catalogue. "I recognize the control number."

"This way," Ianto said, and they followed after.

"How did you know what it was?" the Doctor asked, suddenly.

Jack frowned. "What what was?" 

"The coral. You knew what it was. You shouldn't have."

Jack shrugged. "I don't know. I just... knew." It had been a long time ago, even for him. "It looked like it was the same material. It was alien. I made the connection."

But the Doctor just shook his head. He patted his pocket, as if to comfort the coral inside it. "It told you what it was. It's been feeding off you and the rift."

"What?" Jack gaped. He'd guessed about the rift energy, but himself? Was it like Abbadon, devouring his life energy? "Is it evil?" he asked, reflexively repulsed.

"No, of course not," the Doctor said, defensively. "You're a time traveller. Artron energy. It sensed that, needed it. That's why it told you to keep it."

Jack was speechless. He'd had that thing on his desk for three decades, and never realized any of this. And he was an ex-Time Agent from the future who ostensibly should have. It was little wonder that the Doctor didn't like Torchwood's magpie tendencies. He could imagine what the Doctor's reaction would have been to the Glove.

"Here it is," Toshiko said, shining her torch on an ID label. Instead of the expected crate, they'd found a door to another room. The padlock was easy enough to sonic open, but the Doctor didn't open the door right away. Instead he leaned close, pressing his ear to the wall. He closed his eyes and listened, though to what Jack didn't know.

"So what is this thing?" Jack asked.

"Shh," the Doctor hushed. "I think... yes. Yes!" Suddenly excited, he grabbed the torch, flung open the door, and disappeared inside. 

They glanced at each other, and followed cautiously after.

The room was packed. There was a narrow path to walk in, and the walls were lined with more labelled boxes. The Doctor was bouncing back and forth, touching everything if only for the briefest of moments. He was muttering again, pulling at his hair, eyes wide in the dim light. "Here, it's here, I can feel it, I can... Yes! Oh, yes!" He lunged towards the far corner, where a large object sat, draped in a sheet grey with dust. Frantic now, he pulled at the sheet, and dust flew everywhere, choking and blinding everyone but the Doctor.

When Jack's eyes cleared, he gaped. "How?" he breathed.

"But that's just like..." Toshiko began.

"Oh, oh, you poor thing. I'm so sorry," the Doctor cooed, stroking what looked awfully like a TARDIS console. There was the rotor, cracked but identifiable, and the six sides of the console. It wasn't in the same style as the TARDIS he knew, but the design was unmistakable. The Doctor pressed up close to it, closing his eyes as if communing with it, and for all Jack knew he was doing just that. It was such an intimate act that he had to look away.

"All these boxes," Jack murmured. "They're all part of the same lot?"

Ianto nodded. "The room was listed as a single item."

"I think... they took it apart, and didn't know how to put it back together again," Toshiko said. "This was the basis for the rift manipulator."

"They gutted her," the Doctor said, softly. His voice was thick with sympathetic pain. "She came through the rift, wounded and broken, and they took her apart. Oh, I'm so sorry." His face was lined with sorrow, and he looked like he wanted to cry.

"Doctor?" Jack said, moving close. 

"When did you come from?" the Doctor continued, speaking to the TARDIS. "Whose were you, old girl? You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't _be_." The last he said almost angrily. He shuddered violently, and he pawed at the broken rotor. "Not again, not again," he hissed, and flung himself back, stumbling into Jack.

"Whoa, whoa there," Jack said, holding him as he trembled, a barely contained knot of nervous energy. The Doctor took deep breaths, collecting himself, then eased himself free of Jack's arms. 

"I'm all right. I'm all right," he insisted. "I just... I wasn't expecting that."

"What just happened?" Toshiko asked, baffled.

"Go outside," the Doctor ordered, suddenly. "Both of you, just... go outside."

Jack nodded to Toshiko and Ianto, and reluctantly, they did as they were told. As soon as they were gone, the Doctor slumped down onto a crate, exhausted. 

"It's still alive. Barely," the Doctor said, so sadly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the coral. "This was part of it. Must've been separated when it fell through the rift." He stroked the coral again, as he had in Jack's office. 

Jack was full of questions, but held his tongue. He knew better than to press when the Doctor was like this. Better to be patient, to listen as the truth trickled out. He had all the time in the world.

It was a while before the Doctor spoke again. 

"I can't save her." he said. "Even if I had the parts, she's been dying for a century. It's too late."

"I'm sorry," Jack said, not knowing what else to say. He'd already witnessed the Doctor's grief at losing the Master, and knew how much his own TARDIS meant to him. "If I'd known..."

"You couldn't have done anything," the Doctor said. "She'd lost her pilot. Once, it wouldn't have mattered, but now..."

"Yeah," Jack said. Now was different. He understood that well enough. An old bitterness welled within him, and he pushed it back down. The Master was long gone, and he had no reason to be jealous of this sad carcass of a ship. 

"I have to know," the Doctor said, suddenly, a distant look in his eyes. "I can bring her back just enough to talk... just for a bit."

"Whatever you need," Jack offered, but the Doctor shook his head. 

"Just keep watch," the Doctor said. If you feel something... something _wrong_ , then I need you to take this. Back to the rift."

"Doctor," Jack began, his worry increasing. 

"I'll be fine. Mostly. I just... don't want to hurt it." He gave it a look of such bittersweet care that Jack's heart wanted to break. "It's barely a child."

Jack gave a nod of understanding, and the Doctor carried the coral over to the console. He set it on a clear spot and then, reverently, began to open up the console. Jack stood nearby, trying not to hover too much. 

"Here you are," the Doctor cooed, coaxing out a tiny green bulb. It glowed faintly, like a distant star. He spoke soothingly to it, cupped it like a most precious treasure. He breathed on it, and the glow brightened, just a notch. "Oh, you like that," he said, smiling. "Bit of life back in you."

Jack watched, transfixed. The soldier in him kept one eye on the door, ever alert, but the rest of him simply wanted to take it all in. So many emotions on the Doctor's face, some he'd longed to have directed at himself. Still longed for, despite his best efforts.

"I just want to access your records," the Doctor whispered. He closed his eyes and stilled. His features smoothed out as the minutes ticked past, his breathing grew shallow. The only things that betrayed his activity were the fact that he was still standing upright, and the flicker of his eyes beneath their lids. Otherwise, he was perfectly, utterly still. 

He didn't so much as twitch for a half-hour. Jack had torn himself away long enough to reassure his team, and then immediately returned to the Doctor's side. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling more than a little tense about how long this was taking. If it was going to take this long, the Doctor would have warned him, certainly. Maybe. 

The Doctor's hair was powdered with dust, still in wild disarray. Jack felt a well of affection towards him, and he didn't fight it the way he usually did. Such a strange, wonderful man, who'd changed his life so effortlessly, so thoughtlessly. On the Valiant, Jack had ached to see him, but all that life and energy had been shrouded in a failing body. And most of the time Jack himself had been locked up for the Master's twisted pleasures. He'd died so many times he'd lost count after the first month. 

For a while, he was very, very angry with the Doctor. Incredibly angry, furious to the point of murder. He'd been certain that all of this death and horror was the Doctor's fault, that he'd released the Master on the universe and didn't have the guts to take responsibility for his actions. Jack could have done it, would have done it. He would have snapped the Master's neck, right there on the runway, but the Doctor'd told him no. Cancelling out the hypnotic signal wouldn't have been enough, not with the Toclafane and the Paradox Machine in action. The Doctor hadn't had a plan. He'd just wanted to be near his fellow Time Lord, and damn the humans who suffered as a result.

Jack had got over it. That year was a long time, maybe even longer than the hundred and fifty that he spent waiting for the Doctor on Earth. Time enough to move on from pointless anger and resentment. The Doctor hadn't cannibalized his own TARDIS or taken over the world or come into Jack's cell night after night and gutted-electrocuted-poisoned-shot him. He hadn't brought the horror at the end of the universe back to destroy its ancestors. He hadn't even made Jack immortal. Oh, Rose, you foolish girl.

He hoped she was all right.

"Doctor," Jack breathed, allowing himself to express all the longing he felt for the man before him, because the man couldn't hear him. He reached up and smoothed down the wild spikes of hair, and as his hand touched skin--

_Flames. Destruction, horror, alarms blaring in his ears. Jack staggered in confusion, looked wildly about. The time rotor was in front of him, wheezing as it worked furiously, fully alight with life. The Doctor was running around it, frantically pounding the console, naked fear on his face. He was dressed strangely, in old-fashioned clothing._

_"What's going on?" Jack shouted over the cacophony, but the Doctor didn't seem to hear him._

_"No no no!" the Doctor shouted, angrily. "I refuse! To hell with you fools!"_

_Something dropped from the ceiling, and the Doctor snatched at it, clung to it as the ship shuddered around them, already coming apart at the seams. "They'll never find me," he spat, wild defiance in his eyes. "Never!" He pulled a watch from his pocket and clicked it into place, then pulled the device onto his head. And then he was screaming, agonized screams that drowned out all the blaring and cracking and Jack shrunk back in horror, what was happening, what was happening_

\--and then the world snapped back to a dusty, dim, room and he was lying on the floor, a scream dying in his throat and tears on his face, and Ianto was saying something to him but oh god the Doctor, the Doctor. Jack crawled over and pulled him into his arms, and the Doctor was talking, muttering, saying he'd been stuck, stuck in that moment because the files had been damaged, skipping like a record, and he was shaking like a leaf, paler than pale, eyes wide and dark and hollow. Jack must have said something to Ianto, probably something unconscionable but he just needed him out out _out_.

They huddled together as reality asserted itself. Jack recovered first, and soothed the Doctor with nonsense reassurances. God, trapped in that memory for all that time, who knows how many times over. He felt a spike of guilt that he hadn't realized sooner. It should never have taken that long, not for telepathic communication. 

"It's dead," the Doctor said, roughly. 

Jack looked up at the console, and saw that the little light had indeed gone out, for good this time. He felt a pang of sadness. "I'm sorry," he said, his own voice roughened.

The Doctor reluctantly left Jack's arms and sat back. He gave an acknowledging nod.

Jack felt cool air where the Doctor had been, and wished he hadn't let him go.

The Doctor ever-so-gently picked up the coral, and winced. "It's hurt," he said, fretting over it. "Not too badly, but we need to take it back to the rift."

They hurried back to the TARDIS, leaving the dead remains behind them. Jack spared an apologetic glance for Ianto, and hoped he understood. Ianto usually did.

And then they were back at the Hub, and the Doctor placed the coral into Jack's hands. "Hold it close, but gently," he said. "Just like that."

Jack felt a shiver of something, and was struck by how familiar it was. Almost like the purr of a cat, contentment brushing along his senses.

"It likes you," the Doctor said, a ghost of a smile on his face, just visible through the sorrow. 

They sat together in silence. Ianto brought them tea and chocolate biscuits. It helped.

"Was that...?" Jack asked, at last.

"Yes. The Time War," the Doctor said, staring into his second cup of tea. "That was the Master's TARDIS."

Jack almost dropped the coral in shock. And then he thought about those old-fashioned clothes, and the words the Doctor had spoken, and it all fit into place. "Professor Yana."

The Doctor nodded. "He flew to the end of the universe. Somehow... I don't know. Timing, maybe. His ship just managed to escape... well, _me_. Only to land right into Torchwood's hands. Poor thing never stood a chance." He sipped his tea, and ate another biscuit. He was looking less like death warmed over now, which was good.

"But this little guy's okay?" Jack asked, oddly paternal now that he knew the truth.

"Oh yeah. It'll be fine. Of course, only thirty years old, you'll have another five centuries before you can even start shaping her." He gave Jack a fond look. "But I expect you'll be responsible enough to handle her by then."

Jack smiled, and then grinned.

* * *

They went back for the Master's TARDIS the next day, just the two of them. The Doctor did some fancy dematerializing, and scooped the many crates and the dead console directly into the console room, then steered them into the Vortex.

Gallifrey was gone, but its twin suns still blazed. One after another they tossed the crates out the open doors. When they were gone, the Doctor took apart the dead console, and it went out one piece at a time, to the second sun. They sat and watched, sweat cooling from their bodies, as the pieces drifted inexorably into the stars of their birth.

"From the suns we come, to them we return," the Doctor recited, softly. He placed his hands over his hearts in a strange, formal gesture, and then let them rest at his sides.

This was the second time Jack had helped the Doctor burn a piece of Gallifrey, and he hoped, for the Doctor's sake, that it would be the last. 

When every piece was gone from sight, Jack held out his hand. "May I have this dance?"

The Doctor gave him such a long look that for a moment he worried he'd gone too far. And then there was that crooked smile, and Cole Porter played in the air.

"I'd very much like that," the Doctor said, walking into Jack's arms. There was a brief and amusing struggle to decide who would lead. Jack won, and the Doctor let his head rest on Jack's shoulder. They slow danced against the backdrop of stars, mourning for the lost and grateful for the found.

* * *

"I'm not going to ask you to come with me," the Doctor said, as they landed back in the Hub. He glanced up shyly, and then back down at the console.

"Good," Jack said. He moved close, so that they were mere inches apart. He touched the Doctor's arm, and then his cheek, coaxing him to meet his eyes. For a raw moment, nothing was hidden, and Jack saw all the pain and loneliness and need the Doctor normally hid so well. He was touched deeply that the Doctor would let him see it, and wished with all his heart that he could make it all go away, to see only happiness in those ancient eyes. He wished for that more than he wished to not have to see the end of everything, but neither was likely to be granted.

He did the only thing he could do, the only thing he had the power to give. He drew the Doctor into a gentle kiss, so sweet his teeth ached. And when the Doctor's lips trembled beneath his, he deepened it, pouring out all the passion and love he felt for this man, this alien. Jack held him in his arms and gave him a kiss he would never forget, not if he lived another nine-hundred-plus years, and when he finally drew back, he was entirely pleased with the result. The Doctor looked dazed, eyes glazed and lips dark, and it was a really good look on him. His dark eyes focused on Jack, and he grinned, then laughed, and then pulled Jack into a second kiss, an exuberant, sloppy one that was somehow just as perfect. 

"I have a phone," the Doctor said, as if this was an amazing thing to have, and perhaps it was, because he took Jack's hand and scribbled a number on his palm. "Martha insisted, and she's a very smart woman. Call me. If you need... you know. Help, whatever." He gave a casual shrug. 

"I just might," Jack said, his cheeks aching from grinning now. "Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"Never," the Doctor said, and Jack knew he'd see him again. 

"And don't you dare use that rift manipulator, I mean it!" he called, as Jack left the TARDIS. Jack waved him goodbye.

The Hub was quiet as he walked up from the basement, and he felt himself drawn back to his office. The coral was back in its customary place, and it was happy to see him. He found himself stroking it just as the Doctor had, and wondered at the way his life had twisted and turned to bring him to this place and this time. 

Perhaps he'd take Ianto out to dinner on Friday. Get the poor man out of the Hub, out to a nice restaurant. Jack suspected he owed him an apology, and more besides. But that was good. That was fantastic. And just at the moment, so was life.

 

END.


End file.
